


Dog Days Of February

by orphan_account



Category: Blake Shelton (Musician), Miranda Lambert (Musician), The Voice (US) RPF
Genre: F/M, Gen, Shelbert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 15:15:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1189890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miranda wants to watch the dog show with Blake, but their own dogs have something else in mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dog Days Of February

With another season of "The Voice" looming in the not so distant future, Blake and Miranda's time off was coming to an end. Spring was going to be very busy, which was how they liked it, but the time they got to spend one on one felt more precious now. They were taking time to just hang out around the house, cooking, listening to music and watching TV like any other couple did most of the time. 

It was raining a storm that weekend, the second in February, and neither really wanted to do much of anything. The winter had been hard all around the country and Oklahoma had gotten it's share of cold and even some snow. They agreed on having a Friday night in and ended up crashed on the couch. 

"I DVR'd something for us to watch," Miranda said innocently enough as she settled against Blake's side and picked up the remote. 

Blake knew that tone, though, and he had a pretty good feeling of what they were going to watch. "It wouldn't be that dog show you've been avoiding spoilers about all week, would it?" 

"Maybe." She smiled at him sweetly. "Do you know who won Best In Show?" 

"Uh...a dog?" He guessed. "The big one, with the black...mark." 

Miranda narrowed her blue eyes at him. "You are totally bullshitting me, aren't you?"

"Completely." Blake gave her a proud smirk. "I'll watch it with you under one condition...you don't use it as an excuse to get another dog."

"No, I just do rescue dogs." She agreed. "I just like looking at all the differnet breeds. Some of them are so pretty." 

"And some of them are fucking ugly." He stretched a little and leaned back as she put the show on.

"Blake! There's no such thing as an ugly dog." 

"Oh really?" Blake pointed to the screen as they showed an opening montage from the different breed groups. "That big bald dog is ugly." 

Miranda squinted a little. "That is..a..Mexican dog. A, uh, Sho-Low...I can't pronounce that name. Obviously it's not English." 

"And it's bald because?" He raised an eyebrow. "Aren't dogs supposed to have hair?"

"It's hot in Mexico." She shrugged. "And quiet...let's see what the first group is..." 

The announcer on the TV explained the order the breed groups would be shown in, with the Hounds first up. Blake liked that because he knew a lot of different types of hounds. If he was going to sit and watch something, he might as well enjoy it and he loved being able to give Miranda a hard time about animal stuff. And, okay, sometimes he did like to impress her with his knowledge. He didn't have much of it, so he was proud of what he did know. 

"So...this is easy." He watched them lead the dogs into the ring, then make a lap single file around it. "Best looking dog in that group is the Black and Tan Coonhound. Though I like the Bloodhound too."

"They're not judging them on who's prettier." Miranda explained patiently to her husand. "There's a breed standard...like, they have to have a breed standard to join the AKC..American Kennel Club. And at shows they judge each dog against it's own breed standard." 

"...huh?" He blinked. "I'm not sure I follow." 

"They judge the Bloodhound in the ring against the ideal Bloodhound standard." She sighed. "So they aren't competiting against each other so much as which one is the prime specimen of their own breed." 

"So why don't they just have a ring full of Bloodhounds?" 

"That's how it starts. Then the best Bloodhound goes to the breed group...the groups are made up of breed of a similair type. Like Toy dogs are all little or Hound dogs or Sporting dogs..." 

Blake frowned. "I think I should've looked this up on wikipedia..." 

"Nah..." Miranda smiled at him. "I like feeling smarter than you."

"I'm sure it's a feeling you're used to." He smiled back at her. 

For a long time they sat there, cuddled up on the couch watching the dogs, commenting now and then on what they liked or didn't like about the looks of one breed or another. Stories of past interaction with those specific breeds were shared or shared again or even shared for the hundredth time. It didn't matter, they were enjoying an evening, and like the song went, Blake really did like doing what Miranda liked. 

But then the inevitable happened and they did a segement between breed groups about puppies. Fluffy, roly poly, adorable puppies. And he could sense his wife's resolve melting by the cute moment. 

"Remember our deal?" He nudged her a little. "No puppies." 

"Well...I wouldn't get a puppy from a BREEDER..." 

"Miranda!" Blake groaned. "It's bad enough you came back with a SEVENTH dog this summer. Bellamy is housebroken and starting to get out of chewing on everything. I like not stepping in dog shit. Especially cold dog shit. Barefoot." 

She smirked. "That's what you get for walking around barefoot with a puppy in the house."

"If I remember correctly, I was just going to the bathroom and the puppy was supposed to be in his crate."

Miranda pouted. "But he was crying." 

Blake sighed. "See...this is why the dogs are so spoiled." 

As if he knew they were talking about him, Bellamy trotted into the room with one of Miranda's favorite shoes in his mouth. He pranced in front of his human parents, wagging hsi tail a mile a minute.

"Bellamy!" Miranda scolded, jumping off the couch to retrieve her shoe. "You give me that!" 

When she took the shoe out of the puppy's mouth, he sat down in front of her, waiting for a treat. She'd figured out early on that he was willing to "trade" things he wasn't supposed to have for a doggie treat or a piece of human food. 

"See? Spoiled." Blake pointed out.

"Oh shut up." Miranda sighed. She gave Bellamy a dog biscuit and then sat back down on the couch to inspect the damage to her shoe. "Damn it...he chewed through the strap." 

Blake started chuckling. "Tell me how you want another puppy, Ran." 

"Shut UP!" 

"What?" He gave her an innocent look. "Come watch the rest with me. It's those little yappy dogs next...the, ah, Toy Group." 

Miranda allowed him to get her interest back on the TV, since it was cute that Blake was getting into the dog show thing. "My dogs might be spoiled, but at least I'm not afraid of Chihuahuas." 

"Afraid of SITTING ON Chihuahuas," Blake corrected his wife firmly. "Big difference." 

"Sure there is." She chuckled and shook her head a little. 

"There is!" 

"Uh-huh."

CRASH! Something heavy fell in the ktichen, making them both jump. Blake stood up immediately, feeling the need to check out the situation and possibly defend his woman. Though who would want to break in when they lived in the middle of no where and had a shit ton of dogs outside, he didn't know. But still, he was the man and he had his duty.

Slowly he walked into the kitchen, looking for a prowler. What he found instead was the trash can turned over. Bellamy looked up from the mess on the tile floor once again wagging his tail. But this time he wasn't alone, Blake's favorite of the dog pack, Delta Dawn, was also face first in the garbage.

"Bellamy! Delta!" He yelled. "BAD DOGS!" 

Miranda came around the corner and appeared beside him, looking at the mess and then laughing. Bellamy had retreated at Blake's yell, but Delta kept on chewing on the ham bone she'd found, going as far to settle her fat, squat body down right in the center of the garabge strewn across the floor. 

"Who's dog is spoiled now, hmm?"

Blake rolled his eyes and scooped the Pug mix off of the floor, taking the bone out of her mouth. "No. It could splinter." 

"Awww, it's cute when you talk to her like she's a kid." Miranda giggled and reached to pet the dog's head, but then wrinkled her nose when she got close. "Ugh...she reeks." 

He sniffed the dog and made a face. "Oh shit...she does stink." 

Delta seemed a bit bemused by the humans sniffing her, a wrinkle appearing on her broad forehead as she watched them. 

"Someone's getting a bath." Miranda smirked. "And guess who's going to give it to her?" 

"Oh come on..." He sighed. "Why is she only my dog when she's bad?"

"Because that's how it goes." She shrugged and moved to start cleaning up the garbage. "And don't just bring her into the shower with you. That doesn't count."

Blake frowned. "Why not? It works for me."

"Because...a dog shouldn't smell like Old Spice body wash." Miranda paused a moment. "Besides, it doesn't get her clean, she just gets wet and smells even worse." 

"Okay, okay, we'll do it in the sink." He sighed. "See why we don't need more dogs?" 

Miranda grinned. "Well, if you're the one doing the bathing..." 

"MIRANDA!" 

"Okay...okay...no puppies." She agreed, making a face as she started cleaning up the garbage. 

"We've got seven best in shows right here." Blake pointed out as he filled up the kitchen sink with warm water. 

After locating the doggy shampoo and a towel, he lifted Delta up and set her in the sink. She automatically began thrashing around like he was trying to murder her. Once he was able to hold her still and start lathering her up, she began to make all of the strange sounds that came out of the Pug half of her. 

"Best in a freak show, at least..." He grumbled to himself. 

By the time Delta was scrubbed, rinsed off and dried off all of the water in the sink had transfered to the floor, the walls and Blake. And of course the moment he let her on the floor and out of the towel she ran into the living room and began rubbing her still damp body on the floor. 

Miranda was long done with the garbage by then. She took the towel and put it over the floor to soak up the mess and smiled at her wet and dog smelling husband. "Want to watch rest of the dog show with me?" 

"I think I've had enough dogs for one evening." He rolled his eyes. "I need a shower. Now I smell like garbage and wet dog."

She took his hand and leaned over to kiss him. "Why don't I come with you?" 

Blake smirked and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her in close. "But you won't get clean, remember? You'll just get wet..." 

"I bet I will." Miranda's blue eyes darkened a little with a cocky confidence. "And who said I wanted to get clean, hmm?" 

With a deep chuckle, Blake swept his bride up into his arms and started up the stairs with her. If she was going to have this reaction to him bathing the dogs, they were about to have the cleanest dogs in Oklahoma.


End file.
